


Penance

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [43]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23398117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: “You never wondered?” John asked, “How high the body count went?”“It didn’t matter.”
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Series: The Sinner and the Saint [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/940422
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Penance

Harold disliked sleeping at night without John. The long jobs were hard on both of them, but with their cover securely in place, it was a rare occurrence.

But that night, Harold awoke feeling cold. The door was mostly shut, and there was a slight glow emanating from the living room. Still groggy and with heavy eyelids, Harold padded out to join his partner. John was staring blankly at the TV, watching the news- reports of another violent outburst in the city. “John?” Harold said around a yawn, rubbing his weary eyes. “Why are you up? It’s late, come back to bed.”

John barely moved a muscle. He just kept watching the news. The reporter was recounting the details of a gruesome murder, a crime of passion in the heat of the moment. “Do you know how many people I’ve killed?” he asked, “Did your Machine tell you?” John’s question snapped Harold out of his haze. He shook his head. “I didn’t ask.” He tilted his head, studying the set of John’s shoulders and jaw. 

“I didn’t need to.”

“You never wondered?” John asked, “How high the body count went?”

“It didn’t matter.”

“How can you just say that?” John’s face was void of expression, but his voice was tremulous and strained. “How can you…” He stopped. He picked up his glass with a shaking hand and slammed back the rest of his drink. Harold stood awkwardly in the door. “What is it, John?” he asked softly. Setting his glass aside, John bowed his head. “I need you to forgive me.”

His voice was so quiet that Harold almost didn’t hear him. When what John had said registered, Harold froze. 

“What?” 

John was still staring at the ground unseeing. “All of the blood I’ve shed, all of the pain I’ve caused,” he whispered, “I started saving the numbers as my way of doing penance, but it was never enough.” He swallowed, absently tracing the rim of his glass. “It took me so long to understand why.” John looked up at Harold at long last. “I never took you into account, Harold. I was saving people to atone for everything I did, but that was for everyone else. For… for Jessica. And later… for Carter.” He swallowed again, blinking furiously. “I never asked you for forgiveness.” His eyes fluttered shut. After a long moment, John breathed, “Forgive me.”

Harold clutched the front of his shirt, at a loss for words. He had known about the guilt John held onto, the burden he bore, the way he blamed himself for what happened to Jessica and Carter. But Harold didn’t have anything to forgive John for. None of it was his fault, and yet he shouldered all of the blame as if it was. And Harold wouldn’t punish him for that.

“Kneel.”

John did not hesitate to leave his chair, walking quickly over to Harold and kneeling on the floor at his feet. Harold stepped forward to put his hand on John’s head, caressing John’s cheek and running his hand through John’s hair. John trembled as he leaned into Harold’s touch, losing himself in the sensation. 

“John,” Harold said, his tone reverent and calm, “I forgive you for all the things you want forgiveness for. You’re a good man, John. You’ll always be a good man. And you are forgiven.” John took a deep, shaky breath, his head pressed into Harold’s leg. Harold stroked his hair gently. 

“Come to bed, John,” he said in a soft voice. John nodded before he rose to his feet, letting Harold guide him by the hand.


End file.
